Two Immortal Odes: Their Emotional Patterns

 

By Dr. AMARESH DATTA

(University of Saugar)

 

The Intimations of Immortality by Wordsworth and Keats’s ode to a Nightingale are here studied together because of the resemblance of emotional patterns or rhythms so poignantly evoked in them. This may not prove Keats’s indebtedness to Wordsworth, particularly with regard to this Ode, though he was deeply moved by the poetry of his great compatriot. But it certainly brings into conspicuity that curious phenomenon in literature which lies in the basic sameness of approach by distinctly different types to a crucial problem of life and in times of crisis. And both these poems are products of a great spiritual crisis and, as poems, two supreme examples of poetic quest for truth and wisdom.

 

Wordsworth composed his poem in 1802–if we take only the first part–when he was thirty-two; Keats was only twenty-two when he wrote his poem in 1819. These are significant dates in the respective lives and poetry of these two great poetic types of the nineteenth century. And I am persuaded that it is the same search for a sense of security and a wider and deeper comprehension of life that prompted Wordsworth to add seven more stanzas to the original poem and Keats to write the Ode on a Grecian Urn as a natural sequence to the Nightingale Ode. The difference that exists between the two poets is a difference of temperament and age, but the basic pattern and approach and even the concluding assurance in life realised at least in these two poems are, to my mind, virtually the same. And what is more important, both these poems, it seems to me, deal with the same theme–the feeling of immortality in the midst of suffering and despair. Wordsworth’s poem is obviously an ode on the intimations of immortality, but Keats’s is considered, by’ the ‘general consensus of opinion, a poem of escape, escape from the ‘fever and fret’ of life to the world of the Nightingale’s song and abiding joy, and also the inevitable failure of that escape. But essentially, I think, it is a poem that holds up, by contrast, man’s longing for immortality and his sudden glimpse into the Eternal in a moment through ecstasy and identification. The Nightingale is as much a symbol of immortality to Keats as the child is an incarnation of immortality to Wordsworth.

 

Many influences and verbal echoes, both contemporary and distant, have been traced in these poems by competent scholars. Prof. Garrod suggests that the immediate source of Wordsworth’s poem is Coleridge’s sonnet composed in 1796 ‘On receiving a letter informing me of the birth of a son’ and one line in that sonnet, ‘We lived ere yet this robe of flesh we wore,’ may be cited as almost a proof of Coleridge’s influence. The professor goes to the extent of saying: “I cannot help thinking that the child depicted in the Ode is actually Hartley Coleridge.” One may even trace the source ultimately to Plato’s doctrine of reminiscence, though the methods of approach and understanding may be fundamentally different between the poet-hating philosopher and the anointed poet; but Plato, Coleridge and the rest of them are mere external stimuli, just convenient pegs. It was the circumstances and the poet’s reactions to them that, in the ultimate analysis, will be found to be the deciding factors in the composition of the poem. Similarly in Keats’s Ode, diverse influences from scattered sources can be easily detected. There are echoes from Spenser’s Faerie Queene, Claude Brown’s Britannia’s Pastorals, Coleridge’s poem on Nightingale, and even Hazlitt’s Lectures on the English Poets which Keats attended with some of his friends, and, above all, thoughts and sentiments derived from a whole world of associations gathered round the bird through centuries. But all these are matters of unconscious borrowing and mere application of words, and rarely sentiments, to a pattern which is wholly Keatsian, and the poem is in every respect an admirable product of poetic alchemy. With reference to the circumstances, physical and spiritual, under which the poem was composed, the need for a poetic utterance of such intensity will be better understood. Both these poets, Wordsworth and Keats, turned to the problem of life and death, beauty and decay, light and shade, almost instinctively guided by the spirit’s longing for an upholding faith when the trusted earth gave them suddenly a feeling of betrayal.

 

The general opinion regarding Wordsworth among critics is that he was born with a mystic vision and whatever he wrote, the, Immortality Ode being no exception, is a spontaneous and inevitable expression of this latent poetic gift. Such critics deduce too much of autobiographical fidelity from the ‘Prelude’, forgetting conveniently that the emotions ‘recollected in tranquility’ are usually wish-projections of the might-and-should-have-beens of the earlier life. In fact there is, as I think Prof. Raleigh has suggested, nothing Wordsworthian about the boy Wordsworth, and, even among the Wordsworthian scheme of things, this Ode is a unique phenomenon. And this uniqueness is an expression of a unique experience to which Wordswrorth came in the course of his poetic development through innumerable other experiences. It may be mentioned, obiter,–and this seems to be the truth about Wordsworth–that he ceased to be an inspiring poet as soon as he began to have settled views on man and nature. When his ‘obstinate questioning’ was over–and it was almost over by 1805–writing to him was a matter of habit, not inspiration.

 

But to turn to the boy Wordsworth: he was, like any other boy, a passionate lover of thrillers such as The Arabian Nights, Jack, the Giant Killer, Robin Hood and the like. In his adolescence, like any other sensitive youth of his age, he felt strongly against social injustice and inequality and wrote satirical verses in the vein of Juvenal. It was his intimate experience of the French Revolution and, different in degree though by no means in intensity, his love-experience in France that drew him out of his sentimental youth to the full glare of a terrifying life. His response and reaction to the events of his time may be illustrated by his poems, and to me they seem to be vitally important for an understanding of his poetry.

 

Wordsworth, temperamentally optimistic but momentarily dissatisfied with the conditions of living, had gone to France with a view to reaffirming his already shaken faith in man. But there he saw men against the background of the Revolution in which individuals were lost in a collective frenzy. Recoil was inevitable but he did not yet lose the terra firma, for there was still Annette Vallon. It was a coming back to the individual, she standing for the humanity of the individual soul right in the midst of the reign of terror. Godwin has been suggested as a positive influence in that particular phase of his poetic career. My own feeling is that Wordsworth found a striking correspondence of his faith in Godwin’s doctrine, and since Godwin was a conjuring name in those days, particularly among youth, he eventually associated himself with Godwinianism for a certain span. The, whole thing is a chance coincidence. However, when he came back to England he searched for a better background for man and found it in nature. From nature he came again to the individual man, inspired particularly by the more humane ideals of the Revolution, equality and fraternity, to Simon Lees and Michaels, Ruths and Margarets. This coming back, at least for some time, meant a restoration of his faith in man. But his deep longing for the indefinable and the mysterious could not be satisfied with the objective delineation of man and nature or the external stimulus provided by them. He had to fall back on the inexhaustible fund of poetic inspiration–his own self. In a letter written about this time Wordsworth admits: “I wish much to be in town. Cataracts and mountains are good for occasional society, but they will not do for constant companions.” In his Immortality Ode he calls Nature a ‘foster mother’ and Prof. Basil Willey, articulating the surprise of every careful reader of Wordsworth, rightly suggests that by shifting the glory back to pre-existence he has degraded “Nature into a medium to which the heaven-born visitant is gradually subdued”. With these references it becomes difficult not to conclude that Wordsworth did not find the whole truth either in man or nature, and that it was because of their failure to give him tranquility of mind and innocence of spirit that he turned ultimately to childhood. This is why in his poem on Rainbow composed just before the Ode–the first three lines of which serve as the motto of the final version–he wishes his days “to be bound each to each by natural piety”.

 

The Ode, I believe, does not imply a doctrinal belief in pre-existence. Wordsworth commenting on the poem says: “Having to wield some of its elements when I was impelled to write this poem on the Immortality of the soul, I took hold of the notion of pre-existence as having sufficient foundation in humanity for authorising me to make for my purpose the best use I could of it as a poet.” But that does not mean Wordsworth wanted his readers to disregard the philosophic content as a myth and judge the poem merely as a work of formal art. Such a view is absolutely untenable. For one thing, judgment of poetry by isolation is bad criticism and the entire ‘Prelude’ is an emphatic refutation of this view. What Wordsworth meant by immortality is a state of bliss and joy, recognised by contrast and savoured by a sudden and ecstatic identification with it. Thus when Wordsworth calls the child a ‘philosopher, a seer blest, the eye among the blind’, he expresses a pining for the ideal of understanding through intuition and joy which is symbolised by the child. Keats also, I presume, meant the same thing when he called the light-winged Dryad of the trees an immortal bird whom no hungry generations can tread down. The contrast images of both these poems deserve careful attention in this context.

 

Keats also came to the thought of immortality through various experiences which in his case were more intensely personal. The death of one brother, the migration of another, his sister’s miserable life, his unhappy love affair with Fanny Brawne, a painful consciousness of his own fast approaching end and sundry other sad circumstances, led his mind almost inevitably to the thought of some abiding joy and the imperishability of the soul. Keats also was thinking of divinity in terms of childhood. In that memorable letter where he speaks of the world as a vale of soul-making, he incidentally remarks: “In them (children) the spark of intelligence returns to God without any identity–it having had no time to learn of, and be altered by, the heart or seat of human passions.” Maybe he was influenced by Leigh Hunt’s idea of immortality set forth against the Christian theology, but, as in the case of Wordsworth, the influence is merely an external stimulus and as such superficial. The thought of the immortality of the soul and even personal immortality came to Keats spontaneously, naturally, for no other English poet was so profoundly conscious of mortality and decay. Wordsworth’s child, of course, is already a soul in divine splendour which has already attained an identity. Keats’s child is only a divine spark. So the difference is obvious, but both the poets tread on common ground when they associate divinity with childhood. Another similarity between these two poets should also be observed here. In moments of extreme joy and ecstasy which, unveiling the mystery of life, bring a taste of immortality, Keats passionately yearns for death. ‘To cease upon the midnight hour with no pain’ when the nightingale is pouring forth his soul abroad in ecstasy, ‘to swoon to death pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast’–are recurring sentiments in Keats’s poetry. But the death he invokes is the death of the body only, by whose disguised blessing the moments of saturated joy may remain eternalised in his mind. This strange experience, though not exactly similar, comes also to Wordsworth often in his moments of extreme bliss. When

 

...this corporeal frame

And even the motion of our human blood

Almost suspended, we were laid asleep

In body and became a living soul.

 

We may now turn to the analysis of the emotional patterns of these Odes. The first draft of the Wordsworthian Ode will be compared with Keats’s poem; the later addition to the Immortality Ode should be studied with the ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn” which, in emotional design and thought-content, is virtually the concluding part of the Nightingale Ode. The Nightingale poem ends on a note of grim suddenness, the feeling of finality comes only with the last two lines of the ‘Grecian Urn’ which was composed in the same year and in the same month. And I think it is more logical to treat the poems on the Nightingale and the Grecian Urn as one than to treat the two parts of the Immortality Ode as two separate poems notwithstanding the distance of four years between them.

 

Both the poems begin on a note of despair. For Wordsworth,

Turn wheresoev’r I may,

By night or day,

The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

 

Keats is saturated to the point of insensitivity with sorrow:

 

My heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains

My sense...

 

The thought of childhood and the song of the nightingale create in both the poets a longing for flying up to these symbols of joy and identification. To Wordsworth

 

Thou child of joy,

Shout round me, let me hear thy shout, thou happy shepherd-boy.

 

Keats’s nightingale is a

 

...light-winged Dryad of the trees,

In some melodious plot

Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,

Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

 

At last both the poets, on the wings of imagination, attain the desired identification. Wordsworth says:

 

...I see

The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;

My heart is at your festival,

My head hath its coronal,

The fullness of your bliss, I feel,–I feel it all.

 

Keats echoes:

 

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,

Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,

But on the viewless wings of Poesy,

Though the dull brain perplexes and retards!

Already with thee!

 

But the thought of children culling flowers on every side brings to Wordsworth’s mind the memory of a tree, a single field he has looked upon and then:

 

The Pansy at my feet

Doth the same tale repeat–

Whither is fled the visionary gleam?

Where is it now, the glory and the dream?

 

Similarly the thought of the nightingale that “charm’d magic casements opening on the foam of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn” brings to Keats’s consciousness the stark reality of the word ‘forlorn’ and he too, in sudden disillusionment’ bursts into the query:

 

Was it a vision, or a waking dream?

Fled is that music:–Do I wake or sleep?

 

Both are suddenly brought back to their sole selves with the painful intelligence that fancy cannot cheat so well as she is famed to do. Wordsworth recovered from the shock in the second part of the Ode; Keats found an answer to the enigma in his ‘Ode on a Grecian Urn’.

 

This is the basic emotional pattern of both these poems, but there are other similar aspects on which an adequate emphasis should be laid for a proper study of these Odes together.

 

In both these poems the contrast between the joy-symbols and life’s growing discomfiture has been expressed through the image of shadow and heaviness. Upon Wordsworth’s growing boy,

 

Shades of the prison house begin to close….

At length the Man perceives it die away,

And fade into the light of common day.

 

His grown-up man is, ‘In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave’ and

 

The years...bring the inevitable yoke,

Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife?

Full soon thy soul shall have her earthly freight,

And custom lie upon thee with a weight,

Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!

 

Keats’s man is burdened with ‘the weariness, the fever, and the fret’ in a world where

 

...palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs….

Where but to think is to be full of sorrow

And leaden-eyed despairs...


 

and where

 

...there is no light,

Save what from heaven is with breezes blown

Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

 

(Incidentally the words ‘fever’ and ‘fret’ and ‘palsy’ are echoes from Wordsworth.) Again both the poets conjure up an entire atmosphere round their poetic symbols. Thus round Wordsworth’s child,

 

….the young lambs bound

As to the tabor’s sound....

And all the earth is gay;

Land and sea

Give themselves up to jollity,

And with the heart of May

Doth every beast keep holiday.

 

And to Keats, when he is already with the bird,

 

...tender is the night,

And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,

Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays.

 

Keeping in mind the penultimate stanza of the Nightingale Ode where the poet hails the nightingale as an immortal bird, it should also be noted that Wordsworth too was contemplating on the immortality of an individual bird in a poem composed just before this poetic masterpiece, and which cast a recognisable shadow on the great Ode. The poem referred to is ‘To the Cuckoo’. Like, Keats’s nightingale, this cuckoo–

 

...bringest unto me a tale

Of visionary hours–

The same whom in my school-boy days

I listen’d to.

 

Keats’s perception on beauty in the midst of suffering and failure to retain the vision with an abiding sense of joy, have been further intensified in his next poem, ‘Ode on Melancholy’. In a few lines of supreme poetic beauty, he relates beauty and decay in an in-extricable bond:

 

She dwells with Beauty–Beauty that must die;

And joy, whose hand is ever at his lips

Bidding adieu.

 

But he sings in the ‘Grecian Urn’ in a different key. He seems to be as much eager to find at the end a sustaining philosophy of life as Wordsworth is eager to see the sparks of divinity in the embers of later life–in our obstinate questionings.

 

Wordsworth’s Ode does not arrogate the intimations of immortality exclusively to childhood. “The theme for him,” as Miss Helen Darbishire rightly points out, “the central theme is the immortal nature of the human spirit, intuitively known by the child, partly forgotten by the growing man, but to be known once more in maturity through intense experience of heart and mind.” Keats writes: “Call the world if you please–‘The vale of soul-making’. Then you will find the use of the world. (I am speaking now in the highest terms for human nature admitting it to be immortal, which I will here take for granted for the purpose of showing a thought which has struck me concerning it.)” “The system of spirit-creation,” he goes on to say in the same letter, “is effected by three grand materials acting the one upon the other for a series of years. These three materials are the Intelligence, the human heart (as distinguished from mind), and the world or Elemental space suited for the proper action of Mind and heart on each other, for the purpose of forming the soul or Intelligence destined to possess the sense of identity. Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul? A place where the heart must feel and suffer in a thousand diverse ways.” It should be recalled in this connection that in the same letter he speaks of children as possessing the spark or intelligence that returns to God without any identity.

 

Thus the conclusion for both the poets–basically the same–is acceptance, a soulful acceptance of joy and sorrow, of all the stuff that ‘this life is made on’, which by an obvious implication means a synthetic view of life and its innumerable experiences. Wordsworth magnificently concludes:

 

Thanks to the human heart by which we live,

Thanks to its tenderness, its joys and fears,

To me the meanest flower that blows can give

Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

 

Keats resolves his quest into the profundity of a King idea:

 

‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty,’–that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

 

The older poet perceives the continuity of the divine spark in man, now manifest, now subdued, at times completely hidden, but never altogether absent. Also he sees men and things in relation to a cosmic design. The apparently meanest flower, therefore gives him thoughts that lie too deep for tears. Keats echoes this faith with a significant reference to Wordsworth in one of his letters of that period: “But then as Wordsworth says ‘we have all one human heart’–there is an electric fire in human nature, tending to purify–so that among these human creatures there is continually some birth of new heroism. The pity is that we must wonder at it: as we should at finding a pearl in rubbish.” So the younger poet too gradually came to realise that everything that existed was true and, therefore, beautiful. Earthly phenomena are not seen in isolation separately, but as integral parts of the grand whole. Even personal sorrows, seen through such hallowed eyes, appear to be only some of the basic elements of our many-coloured human life. In a poem full of highly sensuous imagery, those concluding lines, because of their sudden simplicity and spiritual tenor, may appear to be inconsistent, but wisdom and understanding and such other qualities which they enshrine and imply–coming as they do from a youth of twenty-two–are simply astounding. Wordsworth too, considering the long life that he lived, performed this rare magic fusion of youth and wisdom in the early phase of his poetic career. He had time to develop and enrich this idea further and turn his mystic vision into an abiding faith, but the younger poet, alas! nipped literally in the bud, could leave behind perhaps a mightier promise than achievement. But be it as it may, and granted the natural differences existing between any two poets, one is bound to be attracted by the affinity of emotional patterns of these two immortal Odes. Keats was full of Wordsworth, yet this affinity may not be a result of conscious borrowing. Each followed his own path and drew and deducted from his own personal experiences. The wholeness of vision which is a certain distinguishing feature of great poetry, came to them through doubt and suffering and as a high meed of their unwavering spiritual quest. Wordsworth and Keats represent two distinct poetic traditions of England–Miltonic and Shakespearean respectively, if they are to be named after poets–yet in their great search for truth, the poetic golden fleece, both of them traversed the same storm-tossed sea. Influence or no, all great poetry is, in a strange way, similar.

 

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